Chapter Text
Ever since they were fourteen and fifteen respectively, Harriet Potter and Thomas Riddle had always been forced to endure the presence of the other. Since they first met eyes in the sorting ceremony, they had understood that they would dislike one another as much as possible. It was an open secret, the feud of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Harriet and Thomas were the heirs to those houses, their hatred towards the other was well understood.
So when their parents announced that they would be wed after Hogwarts to cease such an ancient feud the two had actually resorted to working together to end such a ridiculous prospect. Unfortunately, they had inherited their stubbornness from one of their parents, specifically the ones who were muggle raised.
And so, mere months after their graduation, Harriet Potter and Thomas Riddle were married, retaining their respective surnames as per the agreement their parents had discussed regarding their wedding.
Harriet would still become Lady Potter and Black, and Tom would still be Lord Gaunt. They would not be known as one another’s consort considering they were on equal footing.
Regardless of how miserable Harriet seemed on the day of her wedding, no one, not even Tom, could deny how beautiful she was. But barely anyone knew the agreement the two heirs had made to agree to a marriage.
“Until the magic of our family is satisfied, we shall be married,” Harriet had declared to Tom in their fifth year, “This marriage is a mere contract to stop further animosity between our families. So until such animosity has been stopped, we will be a married couple. After that, divorce is the obvious next step.”
Tom, a prefect and still rather irritated by his supposed betrothed, raised a brow at such a cunning plan. The Harriet he knew was a brash girl who would like nothing more than to build a palace in the sky to live in peace. But the one before him was a girl desperate to escape matrimony, “That is quite clever, my betrothed.”
“Enough with the mocking endearments. Agree to this immediately so we may escape the prison that will be this marriage,” Harriet snapped, emerald eyes flashing with magic. “I do not wish to tether myself to someone that I clearly dislike and I have better things to do than be your wife.”
“How thoughtful,” Tom rolled his eyes, “But what makes you think that this shall be allowed?”
Harriet huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “My dad was kind enough to let me read the agreement they’ve signed,” Tom’s eyes widen, back straightening as he listened intently to her words, “Aside from the fact that we shall keep our own surnames and titles, there was no clause stating that Divorce would not be an option. Neither was there a clause stating that an heir was required. It is the binding of our marriage alone that they have focused on. Fortunately, our parents are foolish enough to believe that we would fall in love and conceive later on,”
Tom’s face flashed a look of disgust. Nothing on this earth would make him fall in love with Harriet Potter of all people. Anyone who expects him to love her is insane.
“Convenient. I do find it impressive that you have the intellectual capability to create such a plan,” Tom smirked, offering his hand to Harriet. “So be it. Until such a feud has ended.”
And Harriet takes a moment to accept his hand, scowling at how smug he is. For a moment they merely stare at one another, a spark flashing between them.
“To this sham of a marriage.”
“Here, here.”
And so forth, Harriet Potter walks down the aisle, barely eighteen and already turning into a bride. She glances at her mother, who weeps to see her daughter in white. She thinks it is both from joy and regret to see her so young yet a bride already. As her arm linked with her father’s, she glances at the man who holds back his tears. She knew that he had done what was necessary.
Centuries , Centuries did the feud between Slytherin and Gryffindor exist. James had always been an honorable man who did what was good for the world, and that meant ending an ancient feud that could do more bad than good. And then she thought of Merope Gaunt, the only gaunt in he regeneration that had the capability to conceive a child. Well… she blamed the fact that Tom Riddle Sr. was a muggle of squib descent that allowed her to have a child—a horrible and evil one, that is.
And right in front of her, the prat that she would have to marry, was flashing a charming smile that she knows is fake. It’s horrid and makes her want to barf.
Steps away and James Potter whispers to his only child, “I’m sorry…”
“I know… this is our duty… we cannot ignore it…” she replies, “The contract benefits me and I appreciate you for that.”
“I love you my little doe,”
“I love you to, dad,”
And the next thing she knows, her father has given her to Thomas Riddle, her rival in their school days that ended only a few months ago.
Tom continues to smile, spouting vows that Harriet knew were fake.
“I, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, vow to cherish you as if you were the most valuable treasure to exist. I vow to protect you from everything and everyone that seeks to harm you…” he pauses, as if looking for better words to use. “When I first met you, I found you insufferable, but you proved to be a worthy adversary. You are brilliant, clever, and beautiful. I shall take no one but you and devote myself to the duty of your husband…I vow to be by your side as long as my heart allows it… I vow that you shall be my equal in everything…”
And Harriet is surprised to know that he is capable of saying such things. It almost hurts to know it’s fake. But she swallows her bitterness and says her own vows. She vows to be loyal to him, to treat him as an equal. She says how impressive and amazing he is and it feels sour in her mouth. And moments later, she is forced to confront the inevitable.
Harriet gulps as Tom looks at her, really looks at her . He smiles and she can’t do anything but accept his lips against her own.
And everything went up in flames.
Harriet hated the wedding night. She hated how much pleasure it brought her and how much she wanted more.
She hated Riddle even more when he smirked at her the next day, with skin covered in marks that the bastard made himself.
"Don't forget our agreement, wife ." He smirked, cupping her cheek before she slapped his hand away. "Until the family magic is satisfied, we play the roles of a happy little couple. After that—"
"Divorce. I haven't forgotten," Harriet snapped. She hadn't forgotten and she never will. That agreement will be hung over her head for as long as this wedding existed. He didn't have to worry about it.
It takes only a few months for the celebration of the wedding to die. And it takes death to ensure Harriet no longer hears people praise her marriage to Tom Riddle. It takes her in-laws suddenly dying for the celebrations to end. It takes the sudden deaths of her own parents a month later for her to finally be free of the meaningless words of those around her, praising her and her husband .
And it takes preparations to four funerals for Harriet to feel more hollow than ever.
Seeing the bodies of her parents and in-laws in coffins was enough for her to break. She wept, silently in front of the crowd and they all could see her try to keep herself composed and calm. Tom does not cry in front of them and hours later, they find themselves in the manor the two couples had built as a wedding gift. Harriet finds herself weeping, loudly, shamelessly. She clutches the man she claims to be her nemesis, her husband. And she doesn't miss how even Tom was reduced to tears from the deaths of his own parents.
They licked their wounds, kissed the others injuries and comforted one another to the best they could. Anyone would think that this gentleness would make them closer…but it didn't.
It tore a wedge between them as the contract made by Harriet's father and Tom's Mother meaningless. They were dead and the two of them were stuck in a marriage that they didn't want. Harriet had endured these months for her parents, and they were gone. She would have asked for a divorce a month after the funeral, but she didn't. She simply looked at her husband and told her that she would endure a little longer, for their parents' last wish. She would endure for the four who were dead.
Harriet spent more time trying to clean up any messes her parents left than with her husband. She found solace in her godfathers. Sirius and Remus were in a similar state to her, almost perpetually grieving for Lily and James. The reason for their deaths were still unknown and she found herself drowning in the pressure of her duties, not just as Lady Potter but as Tom's wife.
Time passed and Tom pursued politics with a terrifying vigor. Harriet did her best to support Tom, having understood his reasoning when it came to delving deep into the ministry and trying to pluck out yet another corrupt official. Their marriage may not have the love others had, but she did help him and promised to be patient. It was the least she could do with his own patience and loyalty.
"I won't be coming home tonight, I'll come back tomorrow in the afternoon if I can," Tom had once said, around a few months after their parents' funeral.
Harriet was left in the manor whilst her husband ran off to who knows where, but she never asked. She had no right. She may be his wife but that was simply a contract. Yet there was this… bitter feeling of seeing him so happy and excited the next day, not even explaining to her why he was so ecstatic. Something about that smile on his face bothered her and she couldn't understand.
"Happy anniversary, my love," Tom once said on their first anniversary. He had kissed her so gently that time that she couldn't help but feel loved. It felt wrong yet, it felt right. Harriet couldn't understand why it was so hard to allow herself to…love.
She's seen her parents' love. She's seen Sirius and Remus. She's seen it yet she can't help but be troubled by the thought of loving. Something about it felt ominous and she couldn't deny that being loved felt nice.
Tom treated her well… he showered her in gifts and a fair amount of affection. He would spend time with her if it was possible and they would simply spend time together in his office, reading or basking in each other's presence. It was blissful really. Their first anniversary was spent vacationing in Greece, exploring ruins rather than your typical anniversary trip that usually had the couple…well…coupling. No, they had spent it exploring and making discoveries, a passion they shared to an extent.
It was wonderful.
The next time Tom disappeared without a trace, Harriet had discovered from Hermione that he had been sighted with Bellatrix Black, the eldest of the black sisters. The woman herself was only four years older than them, still unmarried unlike the middle of the sisters, who ran off with Ted Tonks—Harriet may or may not have helped with that. But her issue was Bellatrix herself.
The woman always had a fascination with Tom. When they had been first years she was in her third and when Tom was sorted into Slytherin, she practically clung to him like a snake. Harriet had heard rumors of Bellatrix's fascination with Tom…a mad crush they said. Bellatrix had claimed to being attracted to his magic, so the fact that they had been sighted together when Tom vanished yet again…
"Harriet? Are you okay?" Hermione had asked her, concerned for her well being. Hermione had been one of her closest friends in Hogwarts, along with Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. Occasionally, Daphne Greengrass and Theo Nott would be dragged in on their shenanigans but they did their best not to bother her if she looked stressed.
"...I'm fine… better than you think," she said, offering a smile.
"Oh… well… Ron and I…uhm…well…" Hermione's face flamed red as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. And she saw it. Harriet saw a bright gleam and abruptly stood up, emerald eyes wide in surprise.
"Har—"
"How dare you! I've been helping you plan your wedding since we were in seventh year and I wasn't even part of the proposal planning?" Harriet pouted, sitting back down as she sulked—still shamelessly grabbing Hermione's hand and inspecting the ring. She smiled, grinning as her white teeth shone under the light. "I knew he had it in him."
Hermione laughed softly, taking her hand into her own and grinning back at her. "He was rather clumsy when he proposed. Stuttered, but it was adorable! Oh you should have seen him—"
"—I better not. I will deck him if I see the prat 'Mione. How dare he not ask me permission for your hand? Your sister." Harriet scoffed, but her grin did not cease.
"Please…no one knew. He hid it well and… you're the first one to know."
"Very good! I expect to be the first after all the suffering I went through watching you idiots make eyes at each other and argue like an old married couple."
Hermione giggled, "Please! I better not hear any of that in your speech as my matron of honour," she declared, watching as Harriet's eyes widened in surprise. "I was your maid of honour, now it's your turn to return the favour."
Harriet blinked, chuckling as she tilted her head. "I'd be more concerned if Ronald didn't ask me to be his best woman."
"Oh that was the first thing he said after we agreed to tell you first. It turned out to be an argument really but of course, I won. He's planning on asking Neville to be the best man."
"Poor Ginny then."
Hermione and Ron got married on a beautiful day in spring.
Harriet had the joy of wearing a light blue chiffon gown—it reminded her of Hermione's dress in fourth year—to match the theme. She gave a speech filled with reminiscent memories and even teasing remarks on their Hogwarts years. She complained of how long it took them to finally realise their feelings in their fourth year, and finally started dating at the end of fifth year. Safe to say, Hermione and Ron were as red as Ronald's hair.
She watched the festivities happen, nursing herself with a glass of champagne before she felt a familiar arm wrap around her waist. Without needing to look up, she already knew who had gotten a hold of her.
"Husband."
"You're enjoying yourself," Tom said, "Was it you who planned all of this?"
Harriet hummed, leaning against Tom and watching her best friends dance around the dance floor as everyone watched.
"Of course…I worked hard for this moment to be perfect for them." She smiled, gesturing to the balls of light and snapping her fingers as they glowed a gentle blue over Hermione and Ron.
Tom stared at her for a moment, his grip on her waist getting tighter. "Tom?" Harriet tilted her head but Tom only planted a kiss to her lips. His smile was as devilish as ever but Harriet had gotten used to seeing it after all these years.
"You look beautiful, darling," Tom whispered against her lips.
She stared into his eyes, her own trailing to the tailored black suit he wore. A small smile graced her lips as she adjusted his tie and collar, satisfied when both were straight and neat.
"I know," she whispered back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. She chuckled at the dazed look on his face, patting his cheek before she walked away to ensure nothing would go wrong with this wedding.
And truly…she was happy with everything…
If only she allowed herself to be happy.
At the age of twenty-one, she, Harriet Potter-Gaunt—since Tom changed his surname— had decided that the time had finally come. Three years into her marriage and she was content and satisfied…if not for the deal she made years ago. Their wedding anniversary was nearing, on the vernal equinox like every year. They hadn't done much the year before. Tom was busy with his political schemes and Harriet was contemplating on a teaching job. She had always wanted to be a teacher or Hogwarts but something had pulled her away from what she once called home.
So at the age of twenty-one, a month after her anniversary, Harriet Potter served her husband divorce papers.
"What?"
Harriet sighed, setting down her tea to meet the outraged eyes of her dearest husband. She expected this. However, she didn't expect this much detestation in his eyes, his voice.
"Our job is done… The family magics has been satisfied with our union and we no longer have to stay together…sign it…please." Her voice was quiet as she gestured to the papers. She wished this would end quickly. Seeing Tom so… sad and scared was unnerving.
"Harriet…did I do something wrong?"
"No. I am simply upholding our agreement. I promised divorce once the magic has been satisfied, and it shall be divorce that I will expect." This time, her voice was firm and insistent, finally looking Tom in the eyes while ignoring all the emotions she saw in them. Her eyes narrowed, as if trying to force Tom to remember the deal they had made, the deal he had praised and constantly reminded her of in the period before their wedding. The same agreement he mentioned on their wedding night. Tom wouldn't forget, he couldn't.
He was silent, staring at the papers then her. But Harriet was never the type to back down, was she? Both of them were far too stubborn but Harriet tried to hide her desperation. She needed this to end. She needed the lies, the facade, everything that was not real, to end. She didn't live him and Tom didn't love her, end of story. There was no happily ever after, there was no—
"Extend it, just for a little longer. I'll be better, I'll…please…" Tom begged, his chair screeching as he stood up and strode to her.
She was surprised to see him take a knee, hold her hand tight and plead. His eyes showed it. He was pleading. Thomas Gaunt did not plead. He demanded, he ordered. He never pleaded. It was beneath him, it always was. Yet here he was…pleading for her to stay when it was him who reminded her to leave on the day of their wedding.
"What do you want? Tell me, please. I will get it for you. I will give you everything you've ever wanted. I will not stop until you've been satisfied. I— Please, just— tell me ." The desperation in his voice pierced through her heart and she struggled to keep her cool. She takes in a deep breath, feeling magic flow through the air and into her mind. She needed to be calm, she needed to get away. If she stayed longer… if she stayed with him then she fears she would shatter.
Harriet removes her hand from his, pursing her lips and clenching her fists. "I want a divorce, Tom."
And he crumbles in front of her.
"Please, please, please… Harriet, please, do not leave me. I beg of you—"
"Thomas Marvolo Gaunt, you do not beg and you will not start now. Get up!"
His eyes softened, "See? You love me… you—"
"I do not love you." Cold and sharp, her voice was like a knife that stabbed through his heart. "It is my duty , as your wife, to support you… I wish to be relinquished of that duty… I cannot handle it anymore, Tom."
Tom grit his teeth, slowly standing up and staring down at her. Anyone else would have been intimidated, but this was his wife. This was his beloved Harriet, so fearless and beautiful.
As if to save his marriage, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her with as much passion as he could convey. He hears Harriet gasp, try to push him away but he holds her waist firmly and makes sure she couldn't get away. He needed her and he wasn't willing to let her run away—
"I love you," he whispered into her lips and hoped she would finally understand. His actions were not lies, they were—
"Whatever love you have for me—" she cut herself of, choking as she tried to push him away again, "If you love me…" the way she said it was filled with so much pain that he felt it. "If you love me than let me go. If you love me then let me be free. If you love me then free me from this marriage born of lies! If you love me…" she trailed off, pursing her lips as she finally pushed him away. She grabbed the divorce papers and handed it to him.
She felt tears forming in her eyes and she tried and tried for him to understand. She needed to get away, she needed to leave.
And Tom was silent as he stared at his wife. His wife who wanted them to end, his wife who looked ready to cry as she insisted he sign those god be damned papers. And Tom has always been weak for her. He's always done what she asked him to since they married. But Harriet never asked him of anything, and he had to find other ways to give his wife everything. But this was the one thing she asked if him… to let her leave.
Tom had never liked to see his wife cry…
With shaky hands, he takes the papers from her and reads. It's your typical divorce papers that ensured that neither would harm the other or take anything that wasn't theirs. Tom sighed, smiling reluctantly at how she wrote such a contract that ensured that both of them would be safe. Indeed…she was his wife.
So he signed, unable to hide how his hand trembled as his signature was written on the papers.
He looked at her, hoping to see some sort of satisfaction as solace but he didn't. She looked just as pained as he was and she took the papers from him without another thought. She wouldn't look him in the eyes. All he wanted was to see those emerald hues that he loved so much.
"Harriet—"
"Goodbye Tom."
And the marriage between Harriet Potter and Thomas Gaunt ended like that.
Harriet would vanish soon after, and no one would find her.